


When I See You Again

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: When I See You Again Trilogy [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:22:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4090315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick has a quite a day. He can’t wait to tell Damian about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I See You Again

**Author's Note:**

> Based on ‘See You Again’ by Wiz Khalifa & Charlie Puth.

~~

_It’s been a long day, without you my friend. And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again._

~~

**8:00am**

He didn’t look up from his phone – to anyone else it was just a guy texting, but he was actually corresponding with Black Canary and Hawkgirl over the situation in Iceland – but he could tell the barista was staring at him. Blushing probably, too.

She was young, and he had been there before. That feeling of being near someone you find incredibly attractive. Nervous, excited, trying to act normal and knowing you totally aren’t.

She didn’t know he was having a rough week. But he’d be damned if he was going to let on about it, or treat her any differently because of it. It wasn’t her fault.

She called his name – “Mocha cappuccino, Grayson?” – and tried to hide the furious red on her cheeks when he stepped forward. He smiled at her, tipped his head in thanks and made a pointed gesture of putting the dollar in the tip jar.

And it did cheer him up a little, her incredulous breath of laughter as he turned away. The harsh whisper of a coworker, “Oh my god, Ti, you actually _did_ it!”

He raised the cup to his lips, blinking rapidly as he noticed a rather large blob of green text on its side. As he swallowed, he turned his wrist, staring down at his coffee in confusion.

In wide, slanted letters was the girl’s name, Tatiana apparently, a quick ‘Call Me!’ with a heart in the exclamation point, followed by a phone number.

How…adorably old-fashioned.

He laughed while he walked out the door, turned just before it slammed and gave Tatiana a wink. As he walked down the street, he let his grin linger. He wasn’t going to call it – the girl was sixteen at maximum, near ten years his junior and _man_ , wasn’t _that_ a weird thing to think about – but he still let it amuse him. It was still…sort of flattering.

He lifted the drink to take another large gulp.

Damian was going to laugh when he told him.

~~

**11:30am**

It was ridiculous. He’d only been on shift for two and a half hours, only been out in the squad car for ninety minutes, and already he had to write _seven_ speeding tickets.

 _There must be something in the air_ , he thought sarcastically as a bright yellow bike went flying by him. But then he paused. This was _Gotham_. Something actually _could_ be in the air.

He leaned out the window as he hit his lights, sniffed as he pulled out after the motorcycle.

Nope. Seemed okay.

He chuckled bitterly as the cyclist finally seemed to notice him and began to pull over. Maybe he’s been in Gotham too long. Maybe he should book a vacation. Get out of this hellhole for a while.

He sighed as he put his car in park, as he radioed his location into dispatch and popped the door open. Vaguely, he wondered if he could get off work early today. After all, he did promise Damian not to take so long between visits anymore, and it’d been a few days.

(A few weeks, really.)

As he passed the motorcycle’s back tire, he decided he would give it a try after this call. But for now, “Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?”

The cyclist suddenly tensed before twisting to face him. Dick couldn’t see his face, just an abstract reflection of his own against the black plastic of the helmet, but he could see the biker’s shoulders drop in defeat. Or maybe annoyance.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

The voice was muffled, and before Dick could decide if he recognized it or not, the leather-clad rider was ripping the helmet from his face, revealing the half-amused-half-pissed eyes of one Jason Todd.

“Really, Grayson? _You’re_ pulling me over?”

Dick blinked in surprise, before letting a genuine grin drop onto his cheeks. “Just doing my job, citizen.” He drawled. “And also – it’s not like I knew it was you.”

“Would you have reconsidered if you did?” Jason demanded.

“Probably not.” Dick shrugged. “But where’s the fire, anyway? What’s got you speeding through this part of town?”

Jason pursed his lips, hesitantly glanced to the ground as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?”

“I don’t think I follow you.”

“I just.” Jason huffed, then sighed and leaned back to stare into the sky. “I don’t know, man. Just, with everything going on lately. With everything…with everything that’s happened. I feel like I’m going stir crazy. I want to be here for everyone – for _you_ – but…but I just feel like I need to get away. Go somewhere. And speeding through the city on…shit, I don’t even know whose bike this is, honestly…but speeding around on this dude’s bike is better than just sitting in a safehouse, or the corner bar.”

“I get that.” Dick nodded slowly, the thought to visit Damian zooming back into his mind. With everything that happened…maybe the kid wouldn’t mind if Jason came by too. It’d be good for all of them. Some Wayne family bonding. “Yeah. I get that.”

“Sorry, man.” Jason muttered. “I…I know you’ve got your own shit going on.”

Dick chuckled, grimly patting at Jason’s shoulder. “Never enough that I don’t want to hear about yours.” Jason just rolled his eyes. “Hey, how about we make a deal?”

Jason paused.

“I won’t give you a ticket, if you agree to meet me at O’Patty’s for a drink later? Before patrol.”

Jason seemed to consider, then grinned like the tomcat he was. “I’ll take that deal, sure.”

“Good.” Dick exhaled, hooking his ticket pad back onto his belt. “Drive safe, citizen.”

“Call me _citizen_ one more time,” Jason droned, shoving the helmet back onto his head. “I’m shootin’ your tires out.”

“You do that, and I’m sending an email to the whole Justice League saying the Red Hood got a speeding ticket.” Dick hummed as he walked away.

He heard the kick of the cycle’s motor, then: “God, I hate you.”

Dick’s laughter rang through the street.

He couldn’t wait to tell Damian about this.

~~

**5:15pm**

He heard them before he saw them, their shouts and cheers. That’s what happens, though, when the weather is warm and the sun doesn’t set until long past nine at night. Not that Dick was complaining. There was nothing he loved more than seeing the people of the city he loved so dearly out and about. Safe and enjoying their lives.

Dylan came flying around the corner, running as fast as he could after what looked to be a street hockey ball.

And it must have been out of habit – you can’t grow up with four younger siblings without picking up a few things after all – when Dylan tripped over his own feet. When Dick’s arm shot out and caught him before he fell from the curb.

“What’d I tell you about running blindly around corners?” Dick laughed, swinging the boy around before gently settling him onto the ground.

“That the only people who do it are idiots or criminals.” Dylan droned. “Sorry, Mister G – but we’ve gotta finish our game before dinner! Mama said!”

“I’ll take care of Mama.” Dick promised with a roll of his eyes. “You just watch for cars, okay? It’s about rush hour time, and you know these cars don’t stop.”

“Will do.” Dylan nodded in promise.

“And aim for Joey’s blocker side.” Dick said, holding his right arm up. “He’s always too preoccupied covering his glove, leaves it open sometimes. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Dylan grinned and Dick winked, turning towards the complex’s door. He was just about through it, mind already set on making something for dinner, when – “Oh, hey, Mister G!”

Dick glanced over his shoulder. It wasn’t Dylan this time, but his younger brother, Jerome. “Hm?”

“Did you see him?” He asked sweetly, excitedly. “Did you give it to him?”

The smile that washed over Dick’s face was surprisingly natural, given the circumstances, as he crouched down to Jerome’s level. The little boy couldn’t hold back his enthusiasm, tiny hands flying up to cover his mouth.

“Did he read it?” Jerome whispered.

“I _did_ see him. I _did_ give it to him.” Dick nodded with each sentence. “And Robin wanted me to tell you that he _sincerely_ appreciates your letter.”

Jerome flat-out squealed, jumping up and down on the spot.

“I’m friends with Robin! I’m friends with Robin!” He shouted, jumping down the stoop and jabbing a finger into his brother’s chest. “In your _face_ , Dylan! Mr. G did what he promised! Mr. G gave Robin the Boy Wonder my letter! We’re _friends_!”

“Oh, you are _not_.” Dylan rolled his eyes, though glanced curiously at up at Dick. “…Is he?”

“Robin is a very… _friendly_ individual.” Dick laughed, barely believing his own lie. “But I’ll be sure to confirm with him next time he stops by the precinct.”

“Okay, good.” Dylan sighed in relief, before taking Jerome’s hand and jogging back to where their friends were waiting. Dick snorted, turning back to the door and yanking it open.

Damian didn’t know he had a fan club. Maybe that’ll be their icebreaker next time he saw him.

~~

**6:45pm**

Alfred would be disappointed.

It was incredible, how time flew when you were staring into the abyss of your refrigerator. At the abysmal contents, hoping against hope that every time you opened that heavy door they would change. That a full three-course meal would be sitting there instead of two weeks worth of stale take-out, and a half carton of milk that probably went bad days ago.

Bruce would be annoyed.

He sighed, closing the door one more time – the final time, he told himself. Don’t open it again, dude – and turning to the counter. He could survive on tap water, right? Just until tomorrow. He’d go grocery shopping after his shift in the precinct. Paperwork day, his least favorite. He’d go tomorrow, because today he was busy. Today he was tired.

Cass would be worried.

Maybe go to the donut shop around the corner. They were Gotham famous, and he hadn’t had them in a while. Maybe even bring some back for Mrs. Jones down the hall – the old woman had seemed awfully down the past few days. Maybe he should go to Mr. Nadal’s on the second floor, finally accept the invitation of “a real, home-cooked family meal, Dick. You look like you haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Tim would be embarrassed.

He absently grabbed a glass – was this dirty? Did he wash it? Whatever. – and smacked the faucet handle. When the glass felt heavy he hit it again, raised the cup to his lips. He had options. And they all seemed like pretty _good_ options. But he just…wasn’t feeling them. Wasn’t feeling much of anything. When was the last time he wanted to talk to his neighbors? When was the last time he wanted to go out? When was the last time he actually felt _hungry_?

Babs would be suspicious.

He sighed again. Downed the water and slammed the cup on the counter. He opened the cabinet and jerked down the box of cereal. He turned back to the fridge, had already reached his arm out to the door before remembering the milk was sour. He hesitated one second, considered using it anyway, before shaking his head, shoving his hand in the box and slinking over to the sofa. Another meal of just cereal wouldn’t kill him.

Damian would be so ashamed.

~~

**8:00pm**

It came as a surprise to no one, when Jason cancelled.

 _Outlaw stuff_ , the text read. _Rain check?_

Dick smiled grimly, already at the bar, already halfway through a beer.

 _Cash it within a week bro_ , he responded. _Or I’ll actually write that speeding ticket._

Jason didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. That was their game. Dick would reach out, Jason would accept it and then flake. Dick would try again, and have the same results.

Lately, though. He could tell Jason was actually trying. Trying to agree to meet-ups and actually keep the dates. Actually held some semblance of remorse when he’d have to cancel. It was cute – almost like the old days when Jason tried to be the tough little boy he never really was – and Dick appreciated the effort.

He took another gulp of his beer. It was disgusting, but the burn felt nice. Better to think about that than anything else.

(He could see why people became alcoholics.)

He let out a loud, satisfied exhale as he shifted to reach for his wallet. Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. When he turned, he half expected to see someone he knew – Tim maybe, or Stephanie even. Somehow, through all of this, those two have started keeping tabs on him, and have gotten damn good at it. – but it was just a man. About Dick’s height, a little overweight, but good-looking nonetheless.

“Hi, um.” The man started, pulling his finger back tapping against the matching one of his other hand. “You’re…ah…Dick Grayson, right?”

“That’s what they tell me.” Dick grinned. “Can I…help you?”

“Yeah. W-well, maybe. Only if you want to.” The man was crashing in the spotlight, and Dick felt pity hopping in his heart. “I was just wondering if…” His gaze suddenly lowered, to the beer in Dick’s hand. “Oh! Oh, um. I don’t want to buy you a drink or anything, I was just…god, this is so hard, I can’t _believe_ …”

Dick laughed. Not at the man, and he had a moment of panic where the other might think that. But the other seemed to understand, and his shoulders dropped.

“I’m sorry.” He said, clearly deflated. Clearly already emotionally burnt out by his attempt. “It’s just…god, my boyfriend is a really big fan of yours. That photo spread of yours that you did a couple years ago? With Kory Anders? It’s one of his favorite things on the planet. Like, he has a couple of the shots framed in our apartment. Even that article _Gotham Mag_ did last year on the Waynes, with you and your siblings? His favorite. He tried to bid on the dress your sister wore for that picture when it was at that auction for the animal shelter.”

Dick nodded, remembering that day fondly. It was the only way Tim could convince Damian to even show up – that any and all proceeds from the magazine sales and the clothing auctions that followed would go to the city’s animal programs.

“I’m sorry, that’s probably really weird to say.” The man chuckled nervously. “But I just…he thinks you’re really cool, and…I was wondering if I could get a picture with you? Or…or your autograph or…I don’t know, something to give him? He would be here tonight, but he got hit with a stomach bug, and I just…”

And Dick could see it, in the way the man fidgeted and spoke, that he was doing this out of straight adoration for his significant other. That he was willing to put himself through potential humiliation just to do something nice for the one he loved. Otherwise, he never would have approached; Dick would have never even known he existed.

“And like I said, y-you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sure you get this all the time, and I’m sure it’s annoying.” The man assured. “So you can say no, if you want. That’d be totally… _totally_ cool.”

“Nah, man. It’s fine. I can do both.” Dick promised, feeling a bit relieved when the man finally relaxed. He glanced around, reaching for one of the bar’s throwaway coasters. “Now, what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Colton. A-And I’m Brad, by the way.” He said, reaching for his pocket and pulling out a phone. “His name is spelled C-O-L…”

Dick nodded as he wrote it out, giving a light, incredulous laugh as he did.

Damian was going to have a field day with this.

~~

**9:15pm**

“Alfred thought you were coming for dinner today.” Tim hummed. Dick could tell he was trying to be impartial, trying not to sound disappointed or worried, but it wasn’t going well. Dick just rolled his eyes, grateful his brother couldn’t see the gesture from over the phone. “I think Bruce got his hopes up that you would as well.”

“Bruce is smarter than that.” Dick quipped, trying to keep his balance as he pulled his pants off one leg at a time. “But tell Alfred I’m sorry. Something came up.”

“ _Something_ , okay.” Tim’s dry tone conveyed he didn’t believe him. “But yeah, I’ll tell him. Soon as I hang up with you. I promised him I’d help with the dishes anyway.”

It hit Dick, then. Because Tim was _supposed_ to be out of town.

“Oh…oh, Timmy. I…” Dick sighed, guilt welling up in his soul. “I’m sorry. If I’d have…if you’d have given me a hint or something that you were coming, I’d…”

“That’s not the point of a surprise.” Tim countered. “But it’s fine. That’s what I get for poor planning, I suppose. I just figured, it’d been a while. You know, since everyone’s gotten together.”

“I know.” Dick murmured, pulling his uniform from the box in the back of his closet. “God, Tim. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, man. Really.” Tim swore. Dick could already hear the forgiveness in his tone, and he hated himself. He didn’t earn that forgiveness. He didn’t _deserve_ that forgiveness. “I mean, I wouldn’t have come just on Alfred’s word, you know that. But…he said it’s been a while since you visited Damian. So, I just figured, when he said you told him you were coming to see _him_ , that you’d actually…”

“It has been a while.” Dick agreed, pulling the Nightwing suit up to his waist, then sitting on the bed. “And, I did mean to come by today. Really. I have a whole list of things I need to talk to the kid about.” And he hated lying. To Tim, especially. “But something _did_ come up, Tim. You know I’d have been there if I could be.”

Tim sighed, resigned. “I know, Dick. We _all_ know.”

Dick swallowed, and his throat was tight. “Tell Damian I’m sorry.”

“I will.”

“Tell him I’ll come visit as soon as I can.”

“…Okay.”

“Hopefully tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“…Maybe the day after.”

“I’ll tell him, Dick.” Tim promised. Then bitterly, “Just don’t make me a liar to the ten-year-old, okay?”

Dick smiled, glancing up to through the window, to the city that was waiting for him. “Never.”

~~

**11:00pm**

Dick couldn’t help but throw his head back in frustration. It was the same thing as this morning. Normally, on an average night, he’d apprehend between ten and fifteen criminals in one patrol. Tonight, in one hour, he’d already caught _nine_.

 _It’s that air thing again_ , he thought bitterly, punching in the nose of a would-be purse-snatcher. It’s gotta be.

But it wasn’t only the work that was frustrating today. Wasn’t just the law-breakers and bad guys. It was everything else, too. His lack of a social life, his poor hygiene, his indifference to food. His shifts as a cop, his hours as Nightwing. Jason blowing him off again, Tim’s scolding, Bruce’s silence.

And then it went deeper.

His emotions, his mood swings. His apathy and his missteps. His lies, and how often nowadays he broke his promises. And maybe that was it, maybe that was the worst part.

How many times did he promise Dylan and Jerome he’d play street hockey with them and not go? To the point they stopped asking him. How many times did he promise to go fix Mrs. Kafka’s sink and not do it? To the point she went and called building maintenance. How many times did he promise Damian – and to an extent, Alfred – he’d drop by the manor to see them and skip out? To the point _Tim_ was filling in for his absence.

The frustration burned his soul, deep and hot. Idiot, he was a _complete_ idiot. And he needed to do something, because this – the anger, the apathy, the change in his habits, all of it – was symptoms of something _worse_. Something terrible, and Dick didn’t even want to _think_ about it, because it scared him that badly.

But one thing was for sure. He better figure it all out soon.

Damian wasn’t going to wait for him forever.

~~

**12:45am**

He couldn’t help but pout, watching from his position tied up in the corner as Black Bat saved his sorry ass.

He didn’t need help. He had everything under control.

When she was finished beating his kidnapper senseless, she glanced over at him. And Dick was already feeling childish, might as well continue the charade. He pursed his lips, and turned dramatically away with a loud “Humph!”

He heard her sigh, and instantly she was next to him, cutting his restraints. “Come, Nightwing. Let’s go home.”

“No.” He said, pulling away from her the second he could. “My patrol’s not done.”

Her hand lashed out, taking hold of his elbow. “You are injured.”

“Had worse.” He pulled again, but not as hard as before. Cass wasn’t wrong, after all.

“Yes, and according to Red Robin, you have not let _those_ injuries heal either.” Cass was getting angry now, squeezing Dick’s arm. “So, home. Now. I will take… _care_ of you.”

“Don’t need it.” Dick sighed. And he still wouldn’t look at her. Still couldn’t. Gently, this time, he pried himself loose. Stood and wiped the dirt from his butt and thighs. Cass remained crouched, staring up at him critically. Dick held his hands up in peace offering, backing slowly towards the warehouse exit. “Thanks, baby sister, for the assist, but I’m fine. Really. And after tonight, I’ll take a few days off. _Just_ for you. Will that make you feel better?”

“No.” Cass said, in a mimicry of Dick’s earlier attitude.

“Well. You’ll have to deal with it. Because that’s the only offer I’ve got.” Dick shrugged. He felt the night’s cool air at his back and turned towards it.

“Robin was correct, you know.” Black Bat called after a moment. Dick’s shoulders instantly tensed. “It is a… _wonder_ , where you’d be…without any of us.”

_What would you do without me?_

Dick ran from her without another word.

~~

**3:30am**

For the first time in a long time, Dick was unsure. He didn’t know if he was going to win this one.

It was a madman – a one-time henchmen to the Joker who’d been thrown in Arkham and recently escaped – and he’d taken a whole library hostage. It was Gotham University’s, so open all hours of the day. But it wasn’t near any sort of testing period, and past midnight so not many patrons were inside. Seven total, the police believed, though no one could confirm.

Still. Seven was a lot.

And the bad guy – he called himself The Nerd, go figure – had rigged the place with explosives. Every entrance pressure-plated with bombs, including windows. Anyone so much as try to get in or out, and the whole place would go boom.

It was a negotiation situation, plain and simple. Dick was pretty much useless, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. He stood on the rooftop next door, using any tech he could to try and see inside the library. He could hear the negotiator in his communicator, and all the responses from the Nerd as well.

They’d been in this position for well over an hour. The demands were outlandish, and some even impossible, but the criminal wasn’t budging, and GCPD was scrambling, trying to acquiesce.

In the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow of Batman, canvassing the area, trying to figure out anything that could be done from the outside. Red Robin and Batgirl were down on street level, working on hacking and crowd control, respectively.

“Anything?” Red Hood crackled through the comm. Dick vaguely wondered where he was watching this all go down from.

“Not a one.” Dick countered. “This dude really covered his bases.”

“A _smart_ criminal. Great.” Jason sighed. “Snipers don’t have anything either. However, Red thinks he found a weak point in the bomb-grid. Thinks if we can get a shot on the Geek or whatever and take him down, you could use your flippy skills and get in there without setting off the pressure point.”

“Acrobatics, Hood.” Dick grinned. “The term you’re looking for is _acrobatics_.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Jason drawled. “Just be ready for the-”

The rest of Jason’s sentence was drowned by a sudden flash of light, low boom and rumble. Before anything could be asked, a corner of the library began to cave in, collapsing in slow motion.

“Pressure pad activated.” Tim echoed through the comm. “Someone set it off from inside. I’m scanning the area, can’t tell if anyone was in it or not yet.”

Dick held his breath, eyes darting across the rubble and flame. He didn’t have to look long, though, before the Nerd made himself known. He was shouting to the sky, something about revenge and getting his due. Dick didn’t know, frankly didn’t _care_. What he cared about was the seven hostages.

He was jumping, already swinging down towards the wreckage when he saw the red dots of the sniper lasers appear on the mastermind’s body. And the Nerd laughed, cackled so loud it reverberated through the block as he darted to the side, disappeared behind a shattered support beam, only to reappear seconds later, with a young girl pressed against his front. She was young, sixteen at most, tears streaming through the dust on her dark cheeks.

And Dick felt rage burst through his veins.

It was Tatiana, the barista from his coffee shop.

The red dots reappeared, now on her body instead of the bad guy’s. Dick panicked. He had to get to her, had to get her out of there, get her safe _before_ -

A single gunshot rang through the air. Then, the city was silent.

Tatiana screamed instantly, as the suddenly dead weight behind her slumped on her shoulders. The red dots along her skin all disappeared, and some of the cops on the ground ran to action.

It didn’t matter what they did, though. Even though he was higher up, Dick was closest, and reached her first. He wasn’t gentle as he pushed the Nerd’s body away from her, and took her into his arms. She clung to him immediately, sobbing in his chest as her knees gave way and he quickly dragged her away from the scene.

He remained close, though. Close enough that he could watch as the cops crowded the dead enemy, so he could hear as they talked about the kill shot. It was quickly established that none of them pulled the trigger. That the bullet exited through the man’s forehead, meaning the shot came from the impossible angle of behind him.

Dick glanced up, past the flames and still rising dust. Jason stood on what remained of the library roof, gun still in hand. Dick couldn’t bring himself to be angry about his brother’s methods, not as Tim and Stephanie ran by him, seconds later giving a shout of affirmation. That the rest of the hostages were inside, that they were all safe and alive.

A shout came from the crowd, and Dick looked over to see a man trying to jump the crowd barrier. Police were on him instantly, not listening to a word he said. But Dick did, he was scooping Tatiana up into his arms and moving towards him before he even realized it.

“-daughter! Please, please, let me through! That’s my _daughter…_ right there! Tati! _Tati!!_ ”

“Papa…?” Tatiana whispered, turning just slightly. “Papa!”

Dick pushed his way through the police, helped steady Tatiana as she lunged into her father’s arms. She kept sobbing, even as he engulfed her. Her father kissed at her face, running a hand across her hair as he murmured reassurances at her.

Dick smiled – he _lived_ for reunions like this, for those happy endings that are tragically few and far between. – and shifted to back away. Tatiana’s father suddenly lashed out, took hold of his hand.

“Thank you,” He wailed. “Thank you _so much_. You all saved my baby. You all gave me my baby back.”

Dick nodded, squeezed the man’s hand before completing his retreat. He scrambled away to the rooftop of the building next door. Batman, Batgirl and Red Robin had already gotten the rest of the hostages, the cops were dealing with the body of the Nerd and the firefighters were assessing the damage of the partially collapsed building. He wasn’t needed anymore, but that didn’t mean he was ready to leave the scene just yet.

Jason was standing there, thumbs hooked in his gun holsters as he watched the cleanup. Dick landed next to him, turning back to the ledge to do the same.

“I’m not gonna apologize for it.” Jason claimed quietly. “And I don’t feel bad about it. You can tell the old man I said that.”

“Yeah.” Dick exhaled. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.”

They stood in silence for a while. Half an hour at least. Watching as the ambulances were loaded, as the flames died down, as the morning news crews set up on the street corner.

And Dick couldn’t help but think. About what had just gone down, about his earlier frustrations. Even about his day as a whole. His avoidances, and his family. And, what if they hadn’t managed to get Tatiana and the others out safe? What would their families have gone through? What regrets would they have?

Would they have as many as Dick did?

The black sky was morphing into a deep blue by the time Jason let out a light hum.

“Can I cash that rain check now?” He asked thoughtfully. “I know it’s early, but…I could use a drink. And I’m sure there’s a dive open somewhere in this town.”

“Probably.” Dick let out an exhausted laugh. “But nah. Not right now.”

“No?” Jason questioned. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Dick nodded, finally peeling his eyes away. He turned, limping slowly across the roof. “Besides, I’ve…got somewhere to be.”

“…Where?”

Dick paused, looked up at the slowly disappearing stars. “I’ve been told I’m overdue for a _visit_.”

“Oh.” Jason said blankly. And Dick could tell it was on the tip of his tongue, that Jason was seconds away from offering to go with him. Instead, the younger turned away, sighing sadly. “…Tell the kid I said hey.”

~~

**6:15am**

He pulled into the manor driveway when the sky was a pale blue, and the birds were just starting to sing. He paused as he kicked his bike’s motor off, contemplated bolting again. The idea was spur of the moment after all, born from witnessing the moment of Tatiana being reunited with her family.

It brought back too many memories of moments that didn’t happen.

He took a deep inhale, let out a shaky exhale and dismounted the bike. No, he needed this. He needed to _do_ this. Tim was right, it’d been a while since he’d been home. Since he’d seen his baby brother. And Damian was one to hold grudges.

But Dick needed to come see him. He owed Damian that much.

As he walked around the house, he was vaguely proud of himself. If he’d have stopped home to change out of his Nightwing garb between the scene at the library and coming here, he probably wouldn’t have left again. Would have found another excuse not to come by.

He wondered if Alfred was awake. He hoped not. With all the stress he dealt with – and Dick wasn’t too proud to admit he was the cause of a lot of it – the poor man needed his rest.

Regardless, he decided, he would wait. If Alfred was awake, he’d go in and have morning coffee with him. If he wasn’t, he’d doze on the couch until he woke, and they would have breakfast. He’d even risk running into Bruce.

The dewy grass crunched under his boots. Dick said he needed to do something, that the path he was on was dangerous and terrible. Well, this was it. _This_ was that something. Or, at least, the _start_ of that something.

When he hit the backyard, there was instantly movement in front of him. It was Titus, stationed where he always was, like the good little soldier he was trained to be. He left his post, just this once, bounding forward to greet Dick like he was a long lost friend. And maybe, in a way, he was. How long since he’d been here, again?

“Hey, buddy.” Dick cooed, rubbing at Titus’s ears, but not stopping in his journey. “How’s our boy doing?”

Titus let out a light woof in response, trotting regally at Dick’s side, as if he was the leader and Dick, a follower. Dick almost laughed at that. As if he needed directions to his destination.

They passed through the gate, and Dick absently noticed the flowers growing on the trees. He never noticed them when he was younger, but then again, he didn’t come out here much back then. He didn’t have a reason to.

He felt himself hesitate here. He could still turn back. Still leave and try again another day. There was still _time_. But then Titus moved ahead, then Titus went back to his post and sat down, turned back to Dick expectantly, tail wagging slowly in encouragement.

No, there was no more time. Dick wasn’t there then, he’ll be damned if he wasn’t there now.

He gulped, throat dry as he stepped forward. As he finished the last few steps of his trek. He tried to blink back the tears already forming. It wouldn’t do, crying in front of Damian.

“Hey.” Dick choked out. The slab was large and imposing, and Dick wanted to crumble at its sight. It was taller than the boy it memorialized, taller than he ever was, or ever _would_ be. Titus barked a gentle greeting too, scratching his claws against the stone’s base. A common occurrence, if the small, chipped dent was any indication.

Dick slowly lowered himself to the ground, taking in the fresh flowers and empty beer can at the grave’s base. No wonder Jason didn’t go through with his offer of company. Clearly he’d already been by. The flowers were obviously from Tim.

The dew was cool against his ungloved fingers, and he could feel the grass’s texture through his uniform as he sat down. He curled his knees to his chest, crossed his ankles as he looped his arms across his shins.

Everything started when they lost this child. The depression, the frustration, the apathy. And Dick had no one to blame but himself. Because he wasn’t there, because he didn’t help Damian like he helped Tatiana. And because he wasn’t there, these were his consequences, and he had to bear them.

It was a small comfort, though, knowing where Damian was at all times. Knowing Damian was in a place Dick could always find him, could always come talk to him when he needed to. It was a safe haven, here in the Wayne family cemetery, here with Damian. It was just a haven he _hated_ using. A haven he hated _having_ in the first place.

The sun peeked over the horizon, lighting the tombstone up with an angelic glow. And it made Dick feel…almost feel like Damian was there. That Dick wasn’t just talking to an ostentatious hunk of stone, but to the actual soul of his lost partner. He felt his spirit soar. He felt like he was suddenly flying, for the first time in ages.

“Hey, bud.” He mumbled again, smiling warmly as he stared up at the memorial, and Titus laid down next to him. “You won’t _believe_ the day I just had.”


End file.
